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More than Friends

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We walk away from the front desk and find a seat close to the entrance door. With graduation only a few days away, the health center is desolate. The eerie silence in the room makes the awkwardness between Dean and me more noticeable.

Why can’t I put my girl feelings aside and go back to being his best friend? Before we had sex, I never had an issue being around Dean. We went everywhere together and did everything together. There was never a time where I was uncomfortable talking to him. I’ve even talked to him about cramps and stupid girls shit. He never cared what we talked about as long as he had me in his life.

Dean holds my hand on his lap as we wait for another nurse, dressed in light blue scrubs, to stroll through a door.

“Katherine Baldwin,” she says, staring down at the chart in her hands.

I peel my fingers from Dean’s and get up from the chair. He mirrors my movements and presses his hand to my back to help me up.

“That’s me,” I tell the nurse.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

I lock eyes with Dean and shake my head. “No, I’ll be okay. It should only take a few minutes for me to talk to the doctor.”

“I’ll wait out here for you.” He grasps my hip, pulling me close enough to plant a kiss on my forehead. “Good luck, Kitten.”

I smile in acknowledgment, before walking alongside the nurse to the back of the clinic. After the nurse takes my vitals, she notates the information in my chart without speaking a single word to me. Nervous energy rushes through my body, igniting a fire beneath my skin. I have always hated doctors, mostly because I grew up with them coming and going from my house.

Maybe I should have brought Dean back here to keep me company. He would know the right things to say to calm me down.

“Hello, Katherine,” Dr. Grady says with a worried look on his withered face. “How are you feeling today?”

“Worse than a few days ago. My stomach is killing me. I can feel it; I know something is wrong with me. Do I have Celiacs? I stopped eating gluten days ago.”

He shakes his head and sits down on the stool next to me.

“Your tests are negative for Celiac disease. However, I had the lab run a few more tests to rule out other possibilities.” He closes the chart and sets it on the table next to me. “Did you know that you are pregnant?”

My heart speeds up to an abnormal rate that even my usual breathing exercises cannot control. “How can I be pregnant?” Holding my stomach, I lean forward and choke on my words. “That’s not possible.”

“I’m afraid the tests do not lie.”

“But how?” I have trouble breathing. The air sucks from my lungs when I try to speak.

“We sampled your blood, Katherine.”

“Kat,” I remind him.

He nods.

“Look, Kat, you have options. I know this wasn’t the news you wanted to hear before graduation.”

“No, not even close.” I cover my face with my hands and sigh.

How is this happening?

“When was the last time you were sexually active?”

I peek at him between my fingers. “Last month.”

“You’re not too far along,” he says, ripping a piece of paper from the pad in his pocket. “Here’s a list of OBGYNs in the area. Pick one you like, and I can send them a referral letter along with a copy of your chart.”

I take the paper from his hand. “I’m moving back to Chicago. Do you happen to know anyone there?”

“I’m afraid not. Give your insurance company a call. They should be able to help you find someone.” He gets up from the chair, and I struggle not to cry in front of him.

“Thanks, Doc.” I hold out my trembling hand for him to shake.



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